Where is my Sunshine?
by Sunflower-with-Ships
Summary: Phil's gone missing. Not the "locked away in his bedroom for an ungodly amount of hours" kind of missing, but more of the "kidnapped and shoved in a vehicle traveling who knows where" variety. Will Dan ever see his best friend and lover again? Will they finally come out to their fans after years of living in the closet comfortably? (Phan- I'm sorry)
1. Chapter 1: Morning tea with a thief

Dan's POV

I stood as silently and stationary as I could have managed while observing the thief at work. My PJ bottoms swayed against my ankles, caught by the cool draft wiping about our flat. I hadn't even gotten the time to wipe the crusties from my eyes before I heard the not-so-silent criminal hard at work depriving me of my hearts truest desires, "Again with the cereal, Spork?! When will you leave my beloved box in peace!" Phil jumped, dropping the cereal box in surprise, laying waste to the few pieces that splashed across our kitchen floor. I let out an exacerbated outcry which earned me a nervous glance from him, too quickly replaced with his scrunched up eyes and thinned mouth.

"Now look! You've made me waste these beautiful pieces of cereal that could have found a loving home in my mouth," Phil added a gesture towards the fallen grain. I smirked and dropped to the floor, crawling on it as I picked up the mess until I had made my way to Phil's feet. Only then did I rise up on my knees and look up to him, a hand full of rubbish. He was looking down at me, his cheeks flushed and with a growing grin. I rolled my eyes and stood to my full height, just barely surpassing Phil, who was still eyeing me mischievously.

"Phil, we actually have stuff to do today," I warned, or well, attempted to warn though it came out rather as simply something to consider. He nodded as if he took the statement to heart but as he inched closer to me, bringing his lips a breath away from mine, I knew he hadn't even considered the information. "Ah fuck it," I whispered underneath my breath, earning me a smiling and gentle kiss from Phil that turned more passionate. Phil brought his hand to my chin, controlling the direction of the deeper growing kiss and I brought my arm around his waist bringing him up against me. He slipped his tongue into my welcoming mouth and as it explored the familiar terrain I grazed my hand underneath Phil's shirt. We were moving backward and only stopped when I had been backed up against the counter. Unsurprisingly this hadn't been the first time I had been stuck between a hard place and a hard Phil.

Phil started to snicker and I pulled away from him with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head bringing himself back to my lips mumbling about how my pleased sighs would be the death of him someday. The light-hearted mood was quickly replaced with husky moans and hands slipping into one another's pants. "Bloody hell Daniel," Phil moaned as I began to stroke him and he moved his lips, kissing a trail down my chin to my neck. He began to nibble on the sensitive skin and I took in a sharp breath.

"Lower," I requested in a whisper. He understood my concern and brought his lips down my collarbone to my chest, somewhere the camera would never see. I continued stroking him, knowing I was successfully keeping a good pace and rhythm when he failed to keep his sucking and tasting at a constant rate. I let out an involuntary moan when he surprised me with a nibble on the bud of my nipple and he responded with a sound of approval. Then, as if our session had simply reached its time limit he pulled his mouth from my chest and stepped back, letting my hand slip from his pants.

Before I could voice my complaints, Phil planted a quick peck to my lips, his hand grazing my check before he took off towards the door. Leaving in his place, "The door has been ringing for the past three minutes." I remained against the counter now hearing what Phil's moans had once been out shining, a harsh bell that went off every few seconds. I jutted my lip out in protest for no one to see before I could hear voices at the door, "Sorry to wake you sir!" A chipper voice sang, "The instructions say I couldn't leave the package without a signature." Phil said something that made the delivery girl giggle.

"Thank you and have yourself a lovely day," the girl called and Phil remarked a similar goodbye before closing the door. I walked out towards him, watching as he picked at a large cardboard box. I waited patiently, hoping he would remember he had been in the middle of what I would consider a very important task, but alas the delivery girl had waved something shiny in his face and he was hooked. He was similar to a dog, easily distracted, but I suppose I was too, just with other things I reflected with a glance at the tent in my pants.

"What did you get?" I questioned, drawing Phil from his own curious mutterings. He glanced up at me, his eyebrows still drawn in before relaxing.

A lazy smile grew on his lips, 'I have no idea, I can't remember." I tilted my head to the side before walking up to the box and looking at it just as puzzled.

"Maybe it's a bomb," I guessed.

"It's not a bomb," he retorted, rolling his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Did you get another bloody house plant?" I questioned both with hilarity and an exhaustion that has grown from the many, many, MANY, deliveries of living organisms in the shape of green leafed oxygenators

"I did not get-" Phil paused tilting his head up to the sky and mumbling about how something would not arrive for another week, "this isn't another house plant." Which of course had me prepared for the houseplant it seemed we would be getting in a week.

"How about you just open the box so we can figure out what it is and then sign you up for an online shoppers anon meeting," I paused for a tension build, "again." Phil rolled his eyes endearingly. In the process his smirk let free a peek at his pearly whites and he scoffed.

"I really do have a problem," he joked as he began to pick at the tape encasing his package.

I nodded my head in the most therapist-y way I could manage, "Well admitting you have a problem is the first step towards recovery."

Phil's adept hands had managed to delicately open the cardboard box to an exorbitant amount of packing peanuts which of course got an excited yip out of Phil. I had already begun to question how we were going to clean this up when it inevitably fell over and littered our floor.

He was fully engulfed in the deep box, swishing around trying to find whatever the package was hiding when he started to pull out a plastic wrapped item. He began to unwrap his self given gift from its protected layer, pulling from it a new tripod. Phil looked at the device with his eyebrows drawn in and tongue running along his bottom lip, "Oh, weren't you just talking about how you needed a new one of those?" Last time Phil and I had been out he was complaining about how his tripod's tilt was too loose making his camera droop.

"Yeah," he answered, still examining the device with curiosity. I waited patiently for him to explain his confusion, wondering if perhaps he had tried to get a bright yellow one covered in kitten and coffee stickers. He glanced up at me then back down to it then back up at me, "Did you order it?" He questioned. I shook my head no, growing more confused. "I don't remember actually ordering one, just complaining," he trailed off before shaking his head and smiling. He stood up and pitched the tripod back in the box, causing a cascade of packing plastic to find its way on our floor. I sighed, closing my eyes and shaking my head already knowing exactly what "oops" look Phil was giving me.


	2. Chapter 2: A trip into town

**Chapter 2: A trip into town**

 _Author Note: This chapter kind of plays the calm before the storm, so there will be more active chapters to come. Just a heads up to enjoy the domesticity._

 **Phil's POV**

We were heading down to an outside market to film for the audience today; they had requested that we leave the house for once out of fear of us becoming recluse. The funny thing was their concern was wasted, we already were shut in's who rarely left the house, except, of course, to make them happy.

Dan was already talking to the camera as I focused on walking because apparently, I was "a clumsy person who's a danger to themselves". I couldn't even pretend to be angry at Dan's remark because it was completely and utterly true. "Here we are guys, outside! Walking! Doing the exercise," Dan faked a gasp, even placing his hand over his mouth. "And oh my God Phil is under the sun!" He panned the camera over to me and I reassured everyone that I was covered from head to toe in sunblock while also making reference to Dan's carelessness with such a cream.

"Hey, all I'm saying is it's not me that was puking in some poor guy's nice clean cab." Dan cringed in response and added a well-played remark.

"Do you have anything you want to get from the shops?" Dan enquired with a tone that felt so much like a normal conversation, if not for the camera watching our every move of course. And it, or more accurately, they did watch everything. Sometimes they're imaginations got the best of them, claiming we messed around in between shots when in reality I had just unbuttoned my top, but other times they were pretty on the mark.

All the images of "Heart-Eye Howell" came to mind. He really had to learn how to compose himself, not that I could say anything with how many times he's corrected my innuendos. Though, in all honesty, there were times I would say things just to get him all riled up, it could lead to some interesting pillow talk.

"Hey, what's going on in that head of yours?" Dan asked so gently that I knew I would have to edit it out for fear that everyone watching would explode from "asjkjije-ing". I shook my head and noticed I was smiling. It seemed I was not immune from an essence of enamor either.

Dan continued to watch me, not satisfied with my non-answer. "Thoughts of sweets and desires for another board game of course," I added with an awkward double eyebrow lift. Dan let out his big toothy grin before turning to the camera and repeating my "of course". Then he dropped the camera to his side, actually holding it himself for once.

We walked side by side for a while, making no effort to force conversation when in a portion of silence. As I looked off to a cluster of birds pecking at the ground under a now empty bench I felt his hand as it grazed mine. I jumped slightly, standing straighter as I glanced around us. There were few people in sight and those that were weren't paying us any attention. I smiled at him and he spared me one of his prized grins. Still making eye contact with him I rubbed the back of my hand to his. His cheeks flushed as he turned to look forward and slightly to the ground, keeping a consistent press of his hand against mine.

As we grew closer to the heart of the square the crowds of people grew and I stepped a half step away from Dan. Most everyone was used to us being obnoxiously close to one another, so I knew it wouldn't seem too suspicious. However, the huge grins spread over both of our faces might make a few people raise an eyebrow. Knowing I would never ask Dan to dim down his happiness, especially after years with such a complicated relationship with the emotion, I just accepted the possibility of future Tumblr and Twitter posts.

"Oh my gosh! Is that...That's Dan and Phil!" I could hear the excited remarks in the distance before I could ever see a face. Soon a group of three girls was in front of us, asking with embarrassed smiles for pictures and hugs, which we both gave with equal appreciation. When they began to walk away they watched us with big eyes as if they blinked the mirage would fade away into inexistence.

I couldn't help but cement a painfully wide smile on my face. There was a burden in working in the entertainment business no doubt, but there was a sense of community and satisfaction that made any minuscule negative even more insignificant. Glancing over at Dan, I saw a sense of awe that mirrored my own, "They're great aren't they?" I questioned without truly ever wondering his answer.

Dan nodded, "Is it possible to love 6 million people, without knowing their names or faces?

"You know some of their names," I added.

He laughed to himself, seemingly debating whether or not he should share what he found so comical, "Yes, their names. The-real-#1-Philtrash, truly, a name at its finest."

I glanced over at him., eyebrows raised. "Don't get any ideas," Dan warned, "I'm #1 Phil trash."

I was brought back to the memories of this morning, of Dan's hand wrapped around me. "I can't tell if I am terrified or in love with that look in your singular piercing blue eye," Dan whispered to me.

I giggled, "You are definitely the filthiest of my internet pals…" I spoke without looking where I was going because Dan, with his hobbit hair, was very much distracting. This, of course, led me to nearly walking into the bike lane, a fate worse than death.

Dan snatched me, pulled me against him, and took that explainable moment to whisper in my ear, "If you're so distracted with what I believe you're thinking about, we could always head right back to our flat..." It was a tempting offer, the deep honey of his voice made it quite obvious he had been thinking about this morning on our walk. Well, that and the two bulges in his pants, it was the second bulge that reminded me why we were here.

I took a step back, being mindful of the people around us, "remind me of this when we get back home, but until then," I pointed to his pocket, "we have got to film this video before they think we've been kidnapped." Dan nodded, knowing very well what was needed from him, even though it got in the way of what he wanted at the moment, and at that moment what he wanted was me...in him. I shook my head, removing the thoughts through physical and mental forces.

"You are a distracting man," I informed him.

"I can accept that so long as you don't go and get yourself in the line of immediate peril again," he retorted as he fumbled with the camera. "I stop recording for five minutes, and Phil nearly gets himself shanked by a bicycle handle. If you thought his story time videos were in any way dramatized you were wrong." Dan's voice was a tad higher pitched and active when talking to the camera versus me.

We filmed us talking to one another and walking towards a shop we loved getting games from. Our banter on camera was pretty accurate to us normally, other than we had to avoid, or more so I had to edit out, anything that was too "cute" to handle or explain away. Which was usually Dan making a remark about my smile, or seeming too pleased with himself as he grazed against me.

Dan put away the camera as we stepped into the shop; neither of us wanted to make other people feel weird when shopping. Well, that and we didn't want to have that awkward conversation where the owner asks that the camera is put away. Once in the shop, we were each drawn to separate sections.

"How about this one?" Dan walked around a corner of one of the candy shelves I had been, eyeing with the same swagger as Dab checking out Evan. In his hand was a board game that we in no way needed but as it piqued both of our interests we agreed to add it to our collection at home. Just as I agreed with myself that the collection of sweets I had collected would be absolutely beneficial to my stomach and thereby, an absolute necessity.

"On the bright side this could make for an interesting gaming video," we agreed as he handed the game to the teller. Once we collected our perspective goods, we headed back out on the street. The sun was starting to set and we knew our filming time was quickly dwindling.

As we walked along the sidewalk Dan got distracted by some running shoes, as he was once again thinking about attempting the "I bought these shoes now I have to live the life they set for me" approach towards exercising. Before even uploading the video I was well aware that we all knew Dan was not going to take up running, but the shoes were nice and it was entertaining making fun of him collectively as I could feel the audiences support.

While Dan was distracted with buying a lifestyle, I was looking around. There was a box of plushies next to the exercise shop that I was going to look through before, across the street I caught a glimpse of something green. Owing it to my childhood, I made the dangerous journey across the bike lane to the moderately concerning street back to the safety of the sidewalk and examined the item.

I was distracted from my amused observations by the deep grunting and huffs made down an alleyway next to me. "Excuse me sir?" I glanced over to a large man peeking his head out from behind the wall, "would you mind helping me out? I think there's a dog stuck behind this container and I just can't seem to get it to budge." Being a good citizen, and alright, perhaps bribed by the prospect of meeting a new dog, I agreed.

There was a large trash bin pushed against the wall, except for a small crack at the back that would definitely be the perfect size for a small dog. The large man took his post at one end of the bin and gestured to the other side where he wanted me to push. I was starting to recall my muscle composition, or more accurately, lack thereof, and that if that man couldn't move the bin, I didn't know how he expected me to. But at that point, there was no backing out, so I took my post and heaved my entire weight against the chill metal.

The man let out a grunt before claiming he had an idea and moved behind me to grab something while still encouraging me to push for the sake of the trapped animal. I tossed my bag of sweets to the side and continued to do as asked without sharing the same belief in my abilities as the stranger did. Eventually, I knew all was futile and I began to turn to say we might just have to call animal services when the words and my sight failed me. All was lost except for the sensation of falling and a sense of heaviness.


	3. Chapter 3: Dan without Phil lost

**Chapter 3: Dan Without Phil; lost**

 _Authors Note: Hope you enjoy!_

 **Dan's POV**

"Phil?" my voice lifted an octave at the I in his name as it always did when I was trying to get his attention. He wasn't at my side. I glanced around, puzzled at how I could lose him because come on, who could lose Phil? I kept my search level above "normal human height" and was shocked not to find magnificent blue eyes or silky black hair. My bag carrying my new running shoes swayed against my side as I moved from the doorway out onto the busy street. It wasn't like I had expected him to wait at the door for me, but somewhere within my sight seemed a reasonable request. Where was he?

I made my way along the sidewalk, avoiding the deadly bikers, and looking into the shops trying to see everything through his eyes. It wasn't an exceptionally arduous task. After seven years of living with someone if you couldn't look at a shop window, see the metallic green envelope stack and know that's exactly where he went then are you even really roommates? I walked over to the store window and smiled at younger Phil's fascination. Then I debated buying the gift to both make fun of him and make him smile. Everyone said he could light up a room for a reason and it was that toothy grin that always made my stomach prepare a squeal that I would never let past my lips.

A low grunt broke me from my happy thoughts and I followed the lasting wisps of the sound to the small alleyway next to the shop. The back of a van was opened at the other end of the alleyway and two large bodies were carrying a lengthy wrapped package to the vehicle. I was about to turn away from the sight when I caught a glimpse of short black hair poking out from what now seemed to be a rolled carpet.

"Excuse me?" My voice was quiet and unassuming because that kind of thing only happened in the movies, right? That wasn't Phil wrapped in a blanket like a dead body from some comedic version of a murder mystery. That wasn't his black hair flopping with the bounce of the men's walk. Just as that sure as HELL was not his plastic bag full of different and odd sweets strewn about the alley.

"HEY!" One of the men glanced back at me indifferently until we made eye contact and he saw my both accusing and baffled composure, it wasn't happening, it wasn't possible. He said something to the man next to him and they started to run with Phil in a blanket jostling in their arms. Seriously?! I started to run after them while shrieking bloody murder hoping to call enough attention from passersby's that Phil's fate would not rest solely upon my unathletic ass outrunning a van. One of the guys jumped into the back of the vehicle slamming the door shut behind him and closing off my only view of Phil, "Stop!"

The other person, who had helped take my best friend jumped into the driver side and began the engine. I was coming up onto the vehicle in record speed, my absolute horror filling my body with adrenalin when the car burst out of reach. I made it to the end of the alleyway, once again in the sun's path but no way in the light at the end of the tunnel. Screeching I pointed in the direction of the van while all the walkers and shoppers ogled me with unease, "They just kidnapped my best friend!"

I brought my hands to my wobbly knees and took into three large gasps before I started hyperventilating, "They just kidnapped Phil," I whispered more to myself than anyone else. Two women came up to me, one placing her hand hesitantly on my back and when I didn't flinch away began to rub it reassuringly.

The other was already on the phone talking with the police, "White van yeah," the girl continued talking, mumbling a partial license plate, to partial for actually getting Phil back.

"They took my best friend," I gasped to the concrete.

The girl rubbing my back lowered herself to my face and whispered back to me, "You're going to see your mate again, but you've got to start breathing deep breaths or you're going to pass out before the police can even ask you for any of the important information." I nodded to her, appreciating the task-oriented reminder.

I stood to my full size which greatly surpassed the height of the kind stranger, yet she stubbornly managed to continue patting my back. Other people on the streets were looking at me, some concerned, some engaged in this real-life soap opera, and the more charitable ones ready to step in with soothing me if the other girl's arm got tired. I noted at least three other people on their phones, looking over at me and then the direction of the van with their shoulders held high. I was grateful that the police station would be overwhelmed with phone calls about Phil and hopped that increased the chances of his quick rescue.

I could barely hear the police sirens through my panic attack, even with my attempt to regulate my breathing I couldn't keep the fear shattering my very being. It was different being in the action associated with the sirens. So often I had made jokes during my videos, asking people to get murdered in other locations, irritated with the interrupting siren. How different I felt now, if only they had come sooner.

"Are you the friend of the victim?" At some point, one of the police officers had approached me with a pad and paper. The minute the ladies who had been helping me with "breathing" and I gave a description of the vehicle that had taken off with Phil, the officer provided that information to a radio and assured me that someone would be on the streets looking for him. It didn't matter. It was too late to find them on the streets. They put him in a fucking roll of carpet that they brought with them, they weren't going to just so happen to be found by a patrol vehicle.

"They were large men, dressed as labor workers of some kind," I shook my head not trusting my memory. Certain things were clear as could be, the color of the carpet, it's length, Phil's candy thrown on the ground. But for some reason I was struggling to describe the guy's heights, the color of their hair, "I can't say for certain but I think I saw a tattoo peeking from one of the guys' jackets. It seemed like it was a large drawing of a snake on his neck. I'm pretty sure I saw the tongue peeking out." I paused before adding, "I think."

The officer was displeased with my statement, but he didn't say anything to confirm what I already knew. "We'll find your friend, don't you keep worrying yourself sick like that," the teddy bear officer patted my back. I pretended to really appreciate his comfort, but in reality, there was nothing that could make the needing to be sick go away. Part of me wished he was behaving more cooly as if he could track down the criminals in a blink of an eye, but at least the logical part of me knew better than to have such high expectations.

He asked me some more open-ended questions when he decided I was more stable. In reality, I was so far down a spiral of bad thoughts that I had become numb. What if they didn't find him? What if they were putting him through agony? What if he was already dead? One of the women who had been helping me came up to me with a bottle of water, interrupting the cop without an ounce of giving a shit, "Drink this." I took the bottle from her before breaking down into a mess of tears.

She helped me to the ground before opening the bottle for me and bringing it to my lips. I sipped it between gasps for air. Sobbing and behaving like a properly functioning human was difficult to accomplish, and I in no way succeeded. The cop seemed conscious that I had nothing else to give at that moment so he handed me his card and told me to call if anything else came to mind. He walked off to discuss something with his colleague after saying he would be in contact with me. The second woman finished talking with another officer and walked over to sandwich me from the other side.

"You poor man," She hushed as she ran her hand on my back. We three sat there for a while, not talking. The more motherly figure continued to rub my back as the take-no-shit woman continued on my side with her silent but present support. They didn't say anything as I fell back in to air gulping sobs, but the one continued her rhythmic stroke.

I wanted to ask why they were being so kind. Why random strangers would be spending their Saturday night consoling a grown man when the curious bystanders had already walked off. At first, I had thought they were fans but they didn't seem to know my name or Phil's. I just didn't have the energy to speak the words, so I just continued to lean into their support.

The officer returned to me and asked if I needed anything before he was off. I shook my head no and he was gone before my head even seemed to catch up with time. "Do you need help getting back to your flat?" The words seemed so far away but I shook my head no, knowing it was directed at me, and also knowing I would indeed need help but couldn't seem to ask for it. I asked Phil for help and he asked me, sure I had now added the doctor who prescribed my meds to that list, but random strangers?

They seemed to sense my reluctance and helped me in their car. I only knew one of their first names, for all I knew they were kidnapping me as well. Perhaps I should have cared- I didn't. They had put me in the front seat, asking for directions as they drove. I was callous in my direct answers, it took such little time to return home than it had to get there. Was it truly only a few hours ago I had been grazing my hand against Phil's?

When they were dropping me off at Phil and I's flat one of them handed me their number I think. They asked if I would be alright. I nodded yes. "Thank you," I had said, without any specifics. My voice sounded foreign to my ears as if without Phil everything about me was wrong. They had nodded as if anyone would have taken care of a random stranger at the lowest point in their life. I didn't argue. They drove away, reluctance in the mother figures entire pose. I was faced with a much more pressing issue as I stood before my door. Would the flat feel empty without Phil?

I watched the door, unmoving for an obnoxious amount of time. I had stayed in the flat without Phil many times, painful times, but nonetheless, moments without Phil. This was entirely different. "Mr. Howell?" I looked up to see one of the neighbors eyeing me suspiciously. I nodded to him before sliding my key in the door and exiting a situation that might have demanded talking.

Part of me wanted to cry. To fall to the floor and not move until Phil walked through the door. You may never see him again. I was exhausted and needed an escape from myself. Without thinking I found myself on our bed, sprawled out on a comforter of color. Perhaps I would sleep forever. It was a satisfying thought, one that lulled me into rest sickeningly quick and I was lost in a familiar nothingness.


End file.
